[Leif's POV—Holy Temple—Midnight War Begins]
The holy barrier trembled.
Not flickered. Not dimmed.
Trembled—as if something enormous and ancient pressed its forehead against it, grinning.
The Devil's laughter—wearing Crown Prince Arden's dead, rotting face—echoed through the courtyard like a cracked bell.
"LEEEEEEEF…!" His voice stretched, warped, and layered over ten thousand whispers. "SERAPH KING… COME OUT AND DIE."
A shiver of pure ice slid down my spine, and I clenched my fist. I don't need to panic.
Behind me, everyone tensed. Eryndor unsheathed his blade. Thalion raised his staff, blue sparks flickering violently. Daren stood shield-first, jaw clenched. Caelum's wings spread wide, trembling with fury and fear.
The spirit goddess stepped forward, light spilling off her like wildfire—but even her glow flickered under the pressure of his presence.
